Setting aside scientific theories for a moment, in the reality we inhabit, every individual exudes a unique aura — a presence that is invariably distinctive.
Take Chen Mo, for example. His aura carries a provocative edge, so much so that even the most composed individuals tend to lose their temper under the barrage of his sharp tongue.
Or consider Xun'er, whose presence exudes an almost irresistibly endearing charm — a sweetness that could melt even the coldest, most heartless soul into wanting to draw near.
Naturally, Officer Mu Yun, a local constable of Fufang Street, possesses a distinctive aura of her own.
Each morning, the moment she silently drifts into the restaurant — and yes, "drifts" is more apt than "walks"…
The temperature in the entire hall seems to drop by ten degrees, and the once lively chatter of patrons dims into whispers. Even the sound of chewing becomes subdued.
"If it weren't summer, I'd never let her in," Ye Rong would grumble, switching off the air conditioning — after all, their human-shaped AC unit had once again arrived on cue.
Ever since that inexplicable reunion between mother and daughter, the female officer had taken to making routine stops at the restaurant during her patrols — though she never admitted to being Xun'er's mother, she never denied it either. As for Chen Mo's perspective...
"Even if I told you, would you believe me?" Faced with dozens of curious gazes, Chen Mo could only wipe the cold sweat from his brow in helpless resignation.
It was absurd — first, an unexpected daughter, and now, an equally unexpected wife. At this rate, in three months' time, all the long-lost aunts and cousins would appear one after another, and they'd have the makings of The Family Reunion Saga.
Fortunately, Mu Yun remained as impassive as ever, with no visible interest in acknowledging this "husband." At least, not on the surface.
Her daily routine was unwaveringly monotonous — expressionless, cradling Xun'er like a statue, she would sit across from Chen Mo in a daze until the clock struck noon. Then, with a faint nod to the room, she would drift silently out to resume her patrol.
What could be done? Given that she wasn't vying for the man's affections — and more importantly, considering her position as a police officer — Ye Rong had no choice but to grudgingly accept the situation.
Though of course, grumbling was her coping mechanism: "First we finally got rid of Jiadi, now here comes Mu Yun... Little Mo, are you trying to collect all 108 beautiful heroines of The Water Margin?"
What could he say? Chen Mo could only sigh wearily and instruct Nono and Benben to investigate Mu Yun.
Yet even the two gossip masters came back nearly empty-handed. The only certainty was that her background was cloaked in mystery—
She had arrived in South City three months earlier, entered the police force with a referral letter, and stirred not the slightest ripple.
She had no friends, no relatives. She neither shopped nor strolled, and idle chatter held no appeal for her.
She wore no makeup, never changed her clothing — a single white dress beneath her uniform, as if washing was a foreign concept.
She never showed joy or anger. Even if one were to leap out screaming behind her, her face would remain eerily vacant.
And, according to every criminal she had apprehended, Mu Yun would always mutter the same chilling phrase: "Maybe I should just kill you instead…"
Now, that might be passable when addressing hardened criminals — but even uttering it to drivers guilty of illegal parking? That was more than a bit much.
So it was that Chen Mo, watching a driver faint through the window after one such encounter, could no longer hold back a sigh: "I really wonder… what did Mu Yun used to do?"
"No idea!" The appliances all shook their heads in unison. Nono, however, added, "Boss, I looked into it too! Some say she was a hitman. Others say she worked for the intelligence bureau. Still others claim she was a forensic expert who could dissect a corpse in under three minutes…"
"For the love of God, I'm eating breakfast!" The graphic imagery killed Chen Mo's appetite in an instant.
At that very moment, Mu Yun, having dispatched the illegal parker, ghosted back in like a wraith and sat across from him, face blank as always.
Everyone shivered in unison — save for Xun'er, who gleefully launched into a clingy eight-limbed embrace.
"I'm full," Chen Mo muttered, wiping the cold sweat from his brow as he prepared to wheel himself away.
But before he could turn, Mu Yun spoke — cool, abrupt, and entirely unexpected: "I heard… you're short on money for a house?"
It was the first time she had initiated a conversation, and though Chen Mo meant to retreat, her words froze him in place. He looked back in astonishment.
She nodded slightly, as though discussing the weather. "If you're in need of funds, I can introduce you to a part-time job. But I have a condition."
"A condition?" Chen Mo eyed her warily but maneuvered his wheelchair back.
"I'll help you find a job — it pays about two thousand a month," she said blandly, like one addressing the air. "In exchange, I want you to teach me."
"Teach you what?" Chen Mo asked, bewildered, ears perking up despite himself.
Then came the most baffling request: "As a condition, you must teach me about… feelings — familial love, friendship, romance… all of it."
Clink! Chen Mo knocked over his glass. Milk spilled across his clothes before he could stammer, "Wait—what do you mean? You want to learn about emotions? Don't tell me… you've never had them?"
For a few seconds, Chen Mo genuinely wondered if she was from another planet. How could anyone say they had no emotions?
But then again, when it came to Mu Yun, perhaps it wasn't so far-fetched.
She was the very embodiment of emotional absence — even calling her "wooden" would be an insult to trees. But shouldn't a psychiatrist be handling this? Why pick him as a teacher?
"You don't need to understand," she said calmly. "Just tell me whether you agree or not."
Cradling Xun'er, she slowly stood and added, "If you're in, then follow me. I'll take you to the History Museum."
"The History Museum? They're hiring part-timers?" Chen Mo blinked, but seeing her already walk away, he hesitated only briefly before following.
Ye Rong, still at the counter with her calculator, called out, "Mo Mo, where are you going? A DNA test, maybe?"
"I'm going to get a job — for the house," Chen Mo rolled his eyes, pushing his wheelchair out the door. A paternity test could wait — housing came first.
Ye Rong froze for a beat, then abandoned her calculator and followed: "Wait! I'm coming with you!"
Minutes later, the group piled into Mu Yun's patrol car and cruised to the museum.
Being a weekday, the place was deserted. Even the ticket seller was dozing at the gate.
Truth be told, even during national holidays, the local museum drew few visitors.
Mu Yun led the way inside, her footsteps echoing off the marble floors, amplifying the emptiness.
Ancient Era, Medieval Era, Early Modern, Contemporary… They passed through silent exhibits until, at last, they reached the curator's office.
Before Mu Yun could knock, the door swung open — and a wave of alcohol practically punched them in the face.
"Is this a wine cellar?" Chen Mo muttered, while Ye Rong broke into a fit of coughing.
A red-nosed old man appeared in the doorway, holding a bottle of baijiu. "Officer Mu! Long time no see!"
He hiccupped, the fumes enough to stun a rabbit. But Mu Yun, unbothered, simply nodded. "Director Li, I've found the night guard you asked for."
"Him?" The man squinted at Chen Mo, eyes drifting toward the wheelchair with some hesitation.
"I was injured recently — should recover soon," Chen Mo reassured, waving an arm to show he was still functional.
Before he could further demonstrate his fitness, the old man waved dismissively. "Fine, as long as you're alive. Go speak to Officer Wang."
"Officer Wang?" Chen Mo was confused — why involve a cop in hiring a museum guard?
"We're underfunded," the old man replied lazily, sipping his drink. "Daytime security's outsourced to the police. At night, an old friend used to cover it — but he retired, so…"
"This has got to be the poorest museum in history," Chen Mo murmured, speechless, but eventually nodded and left with Ye Rong and Xun'er.
"Charming young man," the old curator mused, his compliment sounding oddly backhanded. Turning to Mu Yun, he offered a wry smile. "So, Little Mu, you've found your teacher. Will it work this time?"
"I don't know." Her face was as stiff as ever. Yet after a brief pause, she added, "But strangely, that man — and his child — feel familiar. Even though I'm certain we've never met."
"That so?" The old man nodded, hiccupping again. "Well, good luck. But honestly, that amnesia excuse is ridiculous — you might as well have gone with former assassin returns."
"As long as it works," Mu Yun replied flatly.
And just before she left, she suddenly turned back. "By the way — thank you. I owe you twice now."
"Think nothing of it. You're one of us here at the museum." The old man took a hearty swig, resuming his drunken stupor. "Oh, and tell your new teacher-husband to be careful. Being the night guard here isn't as peaceful as it sounds."